


Like a lost kite

by ca_te



Category: Nabari no Ou
Genre: Angst, Kissing, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-18
Updated: 2010-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 23:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ca_te/pseuds/ca_te
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written on 30 June 2009.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Like a lost kite

**Author's Note:**

> Written on 30 June 2009.

Yukimi sits in front of the azure light of the computer screen. He holds tightly the cigarette between his index and middle finger. Now he doesn't remember the reason why he started smoking. He remembers a grey sky and a cold wind. There he was, sitting on a bench with his first cigarette. He was a teenage and nothing more. When Hattori-san knocked at his door with a little black haired boy and said Yukimi he should take care of him, he thought he could try to quit smoking. He has never been able to do it. And then within three days he found a thin, tall boy in his living room and not the little kid he saw on that first day. He was as silent as before. He was more sick than before. And Yukimi just saw it happen in front of his eyes.

Yukimi turns in his chair. He faces the window. He has never liked highs. The house of his childhood was little, two rooms for four. The windows were small. He wonders when Yoite is going to come back. He takes a deep drag. The smoke he blows out lingers in front of him. He imagines Yoite walking along the streets of Banten, his long, uncertain legs.

He knows he won't never go to the station to pick him up when he arrives at night. He'll just lay on his futon, waiting for the click of the door.

He will wait to hear Yoite's foot steps, he will lay there hoping they will end in front of his own room. Yukimi has always been a man with lot of hope. It couldn't be helped. It was the only thing to keep himself and his sister from sinking.

He gets up. He lets the cigarette getting soaked under the water. The ash splashes around the sink.

He pads on the wooden floor.

The futon under the sheets is cold, he curls like a cat. Yukimi has always loved cats. He has thought to bring one at home, when Yoite arrived. But Yoite was so little, and silent and scared. He was like a kitten himself.

The click of the door resonates like rocks in a can. Along the corridor and inside his ears. Yukimi looks at the ceiling.

He remembers when these waits began. It was the first time Yoite went to Banten alone. He just opened the door, without a word, and then closed it behind him. Yukimi has never considered himself like a father. But that's not the only reason why he didn't stop Yoite. He didn't stop him because he was afraid of the reaction, of him not coming back again. That day Yukimi waited, he just did that. Till the night fell. Till a crying Yoite entered his room and lied beside him. Yukimi didn't ask anything.

He just felt the delicacy of Yoite's bones under his fingers.

Yoite sobs were like puffs of wind against his palms. And after that night sometimes Yoite came back. He slept there, his face softly hidden against Yukimi's chest. Yukimi didn't sleep those nights. He kept his gaze over that sleeping face. To distract himself from the heat twirling where it shouldn't, he counted the cracks in the ceiling.

And there they are, Yoite's soft paces. In front of his door. Like lost sparrows.

He keeps his eyes opened.

Yoite opens and closes his eyes in the half-light. Outside neon signs split the night. He knows perfectly where Yukimi's futon is. He kneels down and leans over him.

Yukimi feels his breath catching as Yoite's blue eyes enter his field of view. He is pale. Yukimi furrows his eyebrows. His eyes are watery and Yukimi brings his hand up, resting it over a cold cheek. He feels something stirring around his heart as Yoite presses his gloved fingers over his hand.

He wants to talk. But Yoite's breath is so light, and his cheek so wet. Yukimi just lifts the sheets, in silence. He gulps as Yoite withdraws his hand. The sound of the coat slipping on the floor is like the one of a rag doll.

Yukimi watches as Yoite takes of his gloves. He knows Yoite shows freely his bruises only to him. Yet he knows it is just because they live together. Yukimi wonders if Yoite would show them to Miharu. He bites his lower lip.

Yoite's hair brushes over his cheek as the boy lays down. Yoite doesn't look at Yukimi. He grabs the front of his t-shirt tightly. Yukimi looks at the window, at the shadows of the neon lights behind the curtain. Slowly he embraces Yoite's shaking body. The feeling of it makes Yukimi think about a kite without owner on a stormy day.

As Yoite moves closer Yukimi looks again at the cracks in the ceiling.

Then Yoite's voice comes, and it's cracked and it's like a whistle.

\- Please.

Yukimi swallows. He looks down and meets huge, blue eyes. They are too deep to be innocent. They are too blue to be so full of pain.

Yukimi slowly runs his fingers over a cheek plastered with salt. Over dry and ruined lips.

When he leans forward Yoite he doesn't close his eyes. When their lips meet Yoite closes his own.

Yukimi thinks Yoite's eyelids are black as the night. He thinks Yoite's tongue is like a little lost fish.

Yukimi doesn't sleep. He counts the beats of his heart. Sometimes he gets confused by the ones of Yoite's heart. The bony ribcage of the boy slowly rises and falls against his chest.

Yukimi hides his face in the darkness of Yoite's hair. He knows this little kitten would never been his. He squeezes his eyes shut.

In the shadow of hidden neon lights he is the one who feels like a lost kite.


End file.
